Gangs & Roses
by niyoniyo
Summary: Highschool AU. Arthur is a highschool dropout gang member and Francis is a junior at the top of his class. With an unexpected meeting, Arthur decides to leave it all behind. But with his loyalty to his gang, it's easier said than done.


**A.N.: Hello there! I'm sorry I know I shouldn't be coming out with something new! Actually this was supposed to be a one shot (that's why this is so long please forgive me) but it somehow turned into a multi-chaptered story?**

**Well anyways this will be updated every two weeks hopefully and then "All's Fair In Love?" should be updated once a week? That's what I'm hoping you guys please bear with me!**

**Also I'm sorry if Arthur seems a little OOC...my headcanon is that he sounds like a Scottish when he's drunk 8D...  
**

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It was already past 12:30 in the morning when Arthur was already downing his 8th-or was it 9th-glass of gin. The bartender; who was a tall, built and blonde German, was starting to hesitate on giving him his next drink. But the British 17 year old kept insisting, saying he could handle it. The bartender gave in and handed Arthur his 10th glass. He regretted taking the night shift, the weirdoes always came in at this time (the fact that his brother worked with him didn't make it any better). Like Arthur, for example, he was one of those weirdoes. He came in with remnants of blood and bruises on his face, bloody hands and what seemed to be a hollow metal pipe. That was bloody too. Once Ludwig, the bartender, saw him enter in this state, he contemplated throwing him out of the bar because he saw a bandana tied on his pants that resembled much like the ones that belonged to a local gang, so as not to stir trouble. But Arthur came in with a dejected face, as if the wounds on him were deeper than could be seen. He decided to let him stay, and if any trouble were to stir up, he wouldn't hesitate to throw him out (he was 2 times his size anyways).

This was over 2 hours ago but Arthur had not decided to ask for any drinks until about a half hour ago. And he was already very drunk. After his twelfth drink, Ludwig decided to draw the line. So when Arthur asked for another round, he denied his request.

"what d'ye mean NO y-ye bloody G-German?" Arthur had heard him talking with another bartender, who appeared to be his older brother, and picked up on the accent.

"you've had way too much and you're going to drink yourself into a coma. You asked us for the strongest gin we have and I gave it to you." he furrowed his brow slightly.

" am doing this so you don't start something and you go home safely." Ludwig maintained a stoic face as he said this, while Arthur's response was slurred and loud:

"I ain't got no home ye wanker! Who do you think you are, tellin' me what I can 'nd can't order! Wha-whass ye name!" Arthur squinted at the name tag on Ludwig's bartender uniform, but with his blurred vision and speech he only managed to make out a "Louie". Ludwig rubbed his temples slowly and decided to just give the man drinks until he passed out. Then he could kick him to the curb without a problem. So he handed him a drink and Arthur calmed down and sneered at him and mumbled something about stupid Germans and their big pride. Ludwig sighed and turned around to look at his brother, who had witnessed the whole thing. He snickered- or something along those lines because it sounded more like a raspy "kesesese"- and turned around to wait (more like hit) on his Canadian friend on the other side of the bar.

After another half hour a tiny bell attached to the door of the bar rings, signaling its opening. No one bothers to look up except for two or three people and are able to catch a glimpse of the ostentatiously handsome man. Ludwig's brother looks up and a big grin spreads across his face.

"Francis! Hey man what the hell are you doing here!" the man so-called Francis looks up at the sound of his name and flashes him a flirtatious smirk.

"Bonsoir, mon Cher Gilbert~" Francis greets him with his fluid and velvet-like voice. Gilbert only laughs even though his Canadian friend blushes a little. Gilbert noticed this and began to scold him about how "unawesome" that was since he should be blushing at him, not Francis. Francis chuckled at the sight and sat down a seat away from where Arthur was sitting, not bothering to look up and acknowledge the presence of a new customer. Francis leaned on the bar and smiled and winked at Ludwig, who returned it with a roll of the eyes. Francis chuckled from noticing Ludwig's extremely stiff behavior, sure he was a stick in the mud usually, but he was unusually stiff this evening. He asked if it was his brother that was annoying him again. Ludwig shook his head as he cleaned some glasses with a cloth and made a motion with his head to Arthur's direction. Francis looked over and raised and eyebrow at the sight of Arthur.

Arthur was now clutching the glass with both of his hands and his brow looked like it could touch his nose if he furrowed it anymore. Francis thought he was going to break the glass if his concentration wasn't disturbed soon.

"Bonsoir~" sang Francis' voice as he called out to Arthur. Arthur was taken aback by the sudden greeting and loosened his grip on the glass and relaxed his brow. He looked over to Francis but barely moved his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at him as well. Francis' mouth formed into a flirty and borderline sneering smile.

"mon cher, what drink are you on? Twentieth? Twenty-first?" he raised an eyebrow slightly at his question waiting for a response. Immediately Arthur furrowed his brow again and frowned, he didn't like him already. Whose business was it to ask him how many drinks he was having anyway? He decided to ignore his question and turned back to his drink, which he downed the rest in two seconds and slammed it down onto the countertop again. Ludwig reached for the glass and took it from him. Arthur intertwined his hands into a tight fist and was staring into nothing with his frowning face again. Except his concentration was broken once again when Francis decided to sit in the tattered bar seat next to Arthur. Arthur made a disgusted face as he saw Francis sit next to him and lean in close to him and grinned. Arthur instinctively pulled back from the suddenly close contact. Francis chuckled and leaned back a bit.

"too close for comfort, Cher?" this time his grin became a toothy one, causing the drunk Brit's flushed face to slightly turn pinker. Arthur frowned and called him a wanker (it came out more like a "wanha" though). Francis merely rested his arm on the bar and laid his face on it, clearly fascinated by the drunk delinquent. He looked him up and down, raking note of his bloody clothes and scratched up face. He frowned when he took in the details.

"why are you so scratched up?" Arthur scoffed at this and sneered at Francis.

"why do you care?"

"it's not nice to respond with a question, Cher." Francis' voice became hard now. Arthur shot him a nasty glare. Now Francis' face became a nasty smile.

"you know, you'll never be as beautiful as moi if you keep frowning like that. It'll bring premature wrinkles you know." his voice was covered in sarcasm. And Arthur wouldn't stand for that. He stood up sharply, earning the gazes of the few left in the bar, including the bar tenders. Francis looked ip to a now extremely pissed off Arthur. His chest was heaving from trying to control his anger, his face red from rage and alcohol, and his hands were in tight fists."

"y-ye dun ev'n know who I am! Yer filthy accent pisses me off! I don't fuckin' know ye name and you're here fuckin' teasin me!" Arthur's voice was quickly escalating to a yell. By this time, everyone was staring and the atmosphere was tense. Francis was now wary of the man, perhaps he had gone too far. He sat up and stiffened. He opened his mouth to speak but Arthur cut him off.

"shuttup! Ye bloody Frenchie! I dun wanna hear another word outta ya!" In a blink, Arthur lunged for his pipe before anyone else had a chance to react. Francis jolted and threw himself back before Arthur's swift swing broke his arm. Francis let out a yell as Arthur lunged himself once more at him, but the blow never came. Arthur turned around (or as much as he could) and saw Ludwig holding his arm. Arthur struggled against the German's grip, however his prominent muscles showed he had the upper hand.

"wha-? Let go of my arm you wanker!" Arthur tried to no avail to get Ludwig to let go. Ludwig's face was glowering at Arthur, he leaned in and told him:

"I told myself I'd let you in even if you had that gang sign on you. But I also told myself that if you stirred any trouble, you're outta here." With that, Ludwig yanked Arthur forcefully as a stream of slurred profanities spewed from his mouth. The entire bar was silent as Ludwig slammed the door open and didn't hold back as he threw him out onto the cold night pavement.

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**I'm sorry this was rather lengthy! I will try to fix any typos made in here ASAP! But for now please review!**


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